


Pints of Blood

by VinHampton



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1730228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VinHampton/pseuds/VinHampton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin talks about death and murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pints of Blood

Who would think a man had so much blood in him? The first man I killed was Connor. Connor married me and beat me. I snapped and smothered him in his sleep. I never thought of it as murder, because there was no blood. I simply… protected myself from him. I simply took a living man and turned him into a dead man. If I had stayed, I would have been found guilty of manslaughter but the bruises and the scars and his history of violence would have meant a short sentence. If I had stabbed him in the chest while he beat me, it would have been self defence and I would have got off easy. That always made me wonder; how I could have had my hands soaked in his blood and the courts of law would still have beaten their gavel in my favour. 

I should have stayed. I know now I should have stayed, it would have changed everything. I would have done a couple of years behind bars, maybe less with a good lawyer. I could have finally gone to university. I would be something now. A professor. A businesswoman. A doctor. Something. I could have been something. [I was something and now I am nothing but that is again my own damn fault] But I was afraid and I ran, I took the first opportunity that presented itself and I ran right into the centre of a web. I’m no victim. I was a victim, and I ended that. But I didn’t know the magnitude of what I would be getting myself into. “I could find a place for you,” Yuri said, and I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I thought I could do some drug runs for him like I used to do for the boys but no, this was oceans bigger. 

I had been in training for three months when Yuri took me out to downtown Moscow and pointed at a man walking his dog in the street and said “Kill him”.   
“Out here? In the street?”   
“Walk up to him. Shoot him. Come back to the car.”  
He was innocent. I don’t know what his name was. The first man I really killed with blood was just an innocent man walking his dog. I don’t remember much, but he was wearing khaki trousers and he had a kind face and a wedding ring and I said “Sorry” right before I shot him with the Beretta Yuri had thrust into my hand.   
“Ruby,” he had said, “I have to know you are loyal.”  
I did a lot of things for him to know I was loyal. But that was later. If I had refused or run away, I’d have been the one with a bullet in my eye. I know because I saw it happen to a couple of people.   
But this guy, he bled on the pavement. It pooled and it was so much blood. And the dog kept yelping and pawing at him. I got into the car and we drove away. Yuri bought me a drink and a bracelet, and I got another ring tattooed into my ankle. Murderer. This was murder, this one bled. 

You know, you think you are a person with morals. You think you are good. You think you would do the right thing. You would be surprised at how twisted you could be. Yes, you. You would be surprised at what you would do to stay alive if it was your life on the line. And you’d be surprised at how you’d come to enjoy it. We people, we think we’re so superior, but we are beasts. We thrive on darkness, on violence, on death. We love it. It fascinates us. It may scare you but if you open the dam just a little bit, it will bore a hole into your skull quicker than my bullets ever did. You would have done the same, you mark my words.


End file.
